Sub Rosa
by Genevieve Silver
Summary: Life is full of patterns. But it's when the ugliest ones repeat themselves that it becomes hard to see the sun beyond the rain.
1. You're a Big Girl Now

Hi

**Hi! So I decided to republish an edited version of this story which before was in progress. Better now than never. Since I haven't updated in a while, hopefully there'll be a lot of new readers as well as old ones!! Thanks to IrishStorm, lilnewsie77, Eden, letsimagine42, Mickeygee, and does it really matter?, all of you were great support in the first four chapters!! I hope you're still out there!!**

**I really would like some feedback—criticism, thoughts, feelings…anything!! It would be much appreciated!**

**And most of all I hope you enjoy the story! You might have to be patient with it…but don't worry, it'll play out. I hope. :)**

**I don't own the newsies.**

**- . - . - . –**

**October, 1890.**

** . . .**

"_Oh dem golden slippers_

_Oh dem golden slippers_

_Golden slippers I'se goin' to wear_

_Because they look so neat_

_Oh dem golden slippers_

_Oh dem golden slippers_

_Golden slippers I'se goin' to wear_

_To walk the golden street._"

I was skipping along the streets, singing to a song I knew of, "Oh, Dem Golden Slippers". I didn't know all of the words, but I knew the tune since my mother sang it sometimes. My mother has a pretty voice. At night, when she thinks I'm asleep, I hear her sing. Sometimes. Usually she's crying or fighting with Father.

Most nights, instead of sleep, I lie in bed, shivering constantly, partly because of the cold and partly because of their arguments. I hear things about money and class and food and homes; I never know if I'll wake up the next morning and have to pack the few things I have and leave with my parents. We've done it quite often.

Right now, we're in a tiny flat in an enormous tenement building. The walls are so thin I can hear through them, the ceilings aren't so strong so bits of plaster always fall, and there is no heat. It's freezing.

I have to hide the fact that I always get so cold from my parents, though. I'll always remember one night two years ago, when I was five, when I told my parents how cold I was. Then we were living above a saloon which was closed due to water problems. I was frozen. I only had one tattered blanket, and I couldn't stop my shivers. I was so frightened, and did the only thing I could think to do – go to my parents.

I'll always regret that. My parents looked at each other, and then at me, and even though I was young, I plainly saw in their eyes that I'd deeply annoyed and hurt them. I fought against my shivers as I began to back away, trying to get my body to stop shaking for the moment. Somehow I was able to, and told my parents never mind, I was alright now.

My parents never brought it up again and so I never did either.

Right now, it was late afternoon.

One of the most bizarre things had happened, right before I'd left. My mother had called me to her as my father sat reading a newspaper.

She knelt down to my level with a soft smile. She put her hands on my face. "I have a few things for you," she said.

Excitement swelled up inside me. Things? For me? We must be doing well! Making lots of money! And that was good because it meant we'd stay and I had some friends here.

She moved her hands from my face and pulled over a large cloth sack. She reached in and my anticipation grew.

She withdrew a pair of tall brown boots. I gasped. They were beautiful. I felt the outside and realized they'd probably not easily become soaked, unlike the ones I had now. I felt the inside and realized that my feet would be resting on clouds.

"Oh, thank you, mother," I'd said, my eyes on the beautiful boots.

"That's not it," she'd said.

She reached in again and this time she brought out thick leggings, much thicker and much smoother than the tattered ones I was currently wearing.

Before I could thank her again she brought out a thick brown woolen skirt. This would do much better than the thin strip of cloth sown together that I was now wearing. Next she brought out a beautiful gray coat that looked warm and buttoned up. Last she took out a pair of brown mittens and a brown scarf that I could wrap around my head and neck.

She was looking at me with the same soft smile and tears in her eyes. I decided to hug her, something that hadn't passed between us in a long time. It was stiff and awkward but still an embrace.

I raced to the backroom to put everything on – and the clothes immediately warmed my skin. When I came back out, my mother smiled and beckoned me back to her side.

"Freya," she said, in her low, sweet voice. "Your father and I'd like you to do something for us. You're a big girl now."

I nodded.

"In this sack," she said as she stood up and took the sack. "I'm going to put this necklace –" she held up a locket that I'd seen in her drawer a few times. "This knife -" she held up a small dagger kept in a sheath. "And this clip," she held up a beautiful hair clip.

"I'm also putting some bread and cheese, for you, when you get hungry," she said.

Excitement was rising inside me again. I was about to do something for my parents! Make them happy, pleased with me!

"Here you are," my mother said, coming to me and putting the sack over my shoulder. "We want you to sell them to a dealer. Go outside the building and take a right. Walk down four blocks and then take another right. Then, walk five blocks and take a left. Walk three blocks from there, take a right, and the dealer is down two blocks. Do you remember that?"

"Take a right, four blocks, another right, five blocks, a left, three blocks, and a right, two blocks," I repeated.

"Very good," my mother said, her eyes welling with tears as she tightened my coat. "You're a big girl now. You'll be fine."

"I'll be back quick as a flash, mother," I said, eager to get out there and do this.

I skipped for the door and put my hand on the handle.

"Freya," my father said. My eyes widened and I slowly turned. He never speaks to me. "Good luck."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, father."

Then I was out the door and down the stairs. I had to do this and do it well. My parents were counting on me.

I'd already taken a right, gone four blocks, taken another right, then walked five blocks, then a left, and I was currently making my way to the third block.

It was cold out and the wind was whistling through cracks. But only my face could feel the cold. My legs a bit, too, where the wind went up my skirt, but for the most part I felt fine.

I took the right and began a run. It was in only two blocks! It was a good thing my skirt only went to my knees. Otherwise I'd be tripping all over the place and having to walk.

I finally made it, out of breath. I looked around. I'd expected some kind of sign that said 'dealer', that I'd be able to identify by the D, L, and R. My mother taught me some letters. I don't know my vowels too well yet. A thought occurred to me and I smiled widely—maybe now that we're doing well I'll be able to go to school!

Directly in front of me was an old and small house. I decided to try it. I knocked, and after what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open.

An old woman with patches of hair and huge wrinkles stared down at me. I swallowed my fear and cleared my throat.

"Are you the dealer?"

Her eyes narrowed and she slammed the door. She wasn't. I couldn't say I was all too disappointed.

I decided to try the house across the street – it was still two blocks down. I knocked on the door which was immediately opened.

There was a woman wearing hardly any clothes. I'd never seen that before, and it was odd to me. She must be cold.

I looked at her face. It was greatly painted. Her eyes were looking at me with disgust.

"You aint who I thought you was. Get off a my steps."

With that she too slammed the door and I was left in the cold.

I frowned as I walked slowly back down the steps and onto the street. I'd followed my mother's directions exactly.

I didn't know exactly where I was so I didn't want to wander around looking for the real dealer and get lost or make my parents worry. I'd have to go back and ask to hear the directions again, however humiliating that'd be. I didn't run or skip back, I trudged. I thought about how I'd disappointed my parents and myself.

After a while I made it back. I went slowly up the stairs, thinking about what I'd say. I stood outside my door for a minute before I decided to get it over with.

I pushed the door open and said, "Mother, father, I'm sorry, but –"

I halted. The room was completely dark. They must be in the back room.

I made my way through the dark towards the back. I knocked softly on the door, which wasn't even shut. It opened, and was completely dark as well. I ran back into the main room, desperation and anxiety beginning to well inside of me. I threw open the shutters, letting the little light of the dwindling day in.

The main room was empty. Completely empty. All our things gone. Not that we had much to begin with. Maybe this wasn't our apartment, maybe I'd gone into the wrong one.

I went into the back room, holding the door open so that the little light from the main room could get in.

It _was_ our apartment. For my blanket, the tattered one that I've always had, was there.

_It's alright_, I told myself. _They probably didn't expect you back this early_.

I curled up on the floor in all of my clothes and with the sack and blanket. And I drifted off to sleep.

**- . - . –**


	2. Only Lookin' Out the Window

There was no sun showing itself today

**Hey! Thanks so much to EmeraldGreyClouds and ilovenewsies!! I appreciate your reviews so much!!**

**Here's another chapter; I hope you enjoy it!!**

**More reviews would be wonderful!!**

**I don't own the newsies.**

**- . - . - . –**

**March, 1900.**

**- . - . - . –**

There was no sun today. Just rain. Pounding mercilessly on the dirt-ridden streets.

I smiled. I love the rain. For once people who don't _really _need to be out—the rich and snobby, especially—don't clog the streets. Only those who have real and true purposes venture outside. I love the way water can fall endlessly from the sky, washing away dirt and blood and blending with tears…I love the empowering sound of thunder and the brilliant flashes of lightning…

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. "Frey."

I gave a little start and turned from the window.

Rucks, in the seat to my left, was grinning up at me. "We just got in heah," he said.

"I'm only lookin' out the window, Ruck." I returned.

"Ya, well, I know what you're thinkin'," he taunted.

"No, you don't."

"Ya, I do," he said. "I betcha a hundred dollahs that you're thinkin' about how much you like the rain an' bein' outside."

I rolled my eyes. "So what?"

"_So_ you're still shiverin' from befoah!"

I sighed. He was right. I was still freezing, even when wrapped in two of the newsies coats. "I wasn't thinkin' about goin' back out."

He laughed and changed the subject. "How many'd ya sell befoah it started rainin'?"

I thought. "I think twenty two. I only had to get rid of three, though. I knew it'd rain today."

Rucks groaned. "Why didn't ya tell us? You's always right 'bout that kind of stuff. Coulda saved us all a lot a pennies."

I sighed. "Sorry."

Rucks turned back to his conversation and I turned back to the window. My fingers absently played with the rim of my glass.

Suddenly I saw two figures hurrying towards Tibby's. My eyes widened. I recognized them immediately. Blink and Hart. From Rucks, I get a groan because I didn't tell him about the rain I thought would come. From Hart, I'd probably get a lecture in front of everyone.

The door to Tibby's burst open and I sank a bit lower in my seat and tried hard to concentrate on the rain outside.

"Freya," Hart's voice came, ringing with annoyance.

I slowly turned. She was standing at the head of the table, her hands gripping the edge, water dripping from somewhat mussed up golden hair, and her blue eyes piercing into mine. She was forcing the entire table to tune into the conversation that was about to happen, since she was at one end and I the other.

"Did you know it was going to rain today?"

I decided to act surprised that she was there. "Oh, hey Hart! Blink! You know, I –"

"Freya."

"I didn't exactly _know_, I–"

"She knew!" Rucks chimed in.

I huffed. "Thanks, Rucks," I muttered.

"Frey! When you know something like that, you tell us! Blink and I went _all the way to Pine Street_!"

Audible 'ooh's and 'ouch's were heard, and even I couldn't help raising my eyebrows. Pine Street was far away.

"Well," I said in my defense. "I didn't know for sure, I just had this feelin'. And what if I was wrong? And all a ya stayed in close range and bought only a few papers? That'd be bad too. Besides, ya coulda just gone in a restaurant close to Pine Street."

"Ha. Funny joke. That's where the crib always eats. You know that," she retorted.

"Oh, right, the big, terrifying crib," I said.

"They are pretty big," Blink countered in Hart's defense.

"And frightenin'," Les piped up, his eyes earnest.

I sighed. Clearly I had in the newsies a great defense system. "Fine. Sorry."

Hart immediately perked up and smiled. "Good! Will ya come back to the lodging house with me?" Sometimes, with her, all you really need to do is say sorry. Sometimes, though, I have a natural inclination to find any evidence in my defense.

I immediately stood. Going back to the lodging house and getting a bunch of blankets and curling up by the fire would be really nice.

Rucks looked at me pointedly. "If you catch hippothermous out there –"

"_Hypothermia_," corrected David.

Rucks rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Mouth," he said sarcastically. "If you catch that out there, we'll all be dead."

I felt a pang and Rucks' eyes widened as he realized what he'd said.

"Sorry – I-"

"S'okay, Rucks," I smiled at him, my eyes telling him to drop it.

"Frey – are ya sure? You're gonna go? You'll be too cold," he said.

"I'm sure. I'll see ya later," I said. I squeezed by the rest of the guys, saying goodbye to each as I awkwardly passed.

I stopped to give Mush's coat back to him.

"Frey," he said, stopping me. "You _know _I don't get cold."

Specs, next to him, said, "Ya, ya know, all that blood flowin' through all that muscle…right, Mush?"

Everyone laughed. Mush grinned. "Right."

"Thanks, Mush," I said.

"Wow," David suddenly interjected as I made my way past everyone. "Specs, that was actually anatomically correct."

Specs smiled triumphantly.

"Anatomically…" Dutchy muttered, his brow furrowed. "Anatomically…"

David sighed as I finally made it to Hart's side. "It means having to do with the body."

Dutchy became more confused. "Whose body?"

"Any body."

"So, Specs was right and having to do with all bodies?"

"No, Specs was right about Mush's body," David said, somewhat patiently.

"I thought you said it could be any body."

I turned to Jack, the last one in one row, as David's word lesson continued. I handed his coat back to him and turned to go. He put his hand on my arm to stop me. "You know you can't catch hypothermia," he said in a low voice. "You_ know_ why."

I yanked my arm away. "Ya, I _do_. It's bad to be sick."

Jack smiled ruefully, but his eyes clearly said "you know why else".

I frowned. "See ya," I muttered.

"Go quickly," Jack said as I made for the front door. Hart squeezed Blink's hand and was right behind me.

"Don't talk to strangers!" Called Race.

"Avoid alleys!"

"Watch out for black cats!"

We let the door fall back, covering their voices.

"Just because we're girls, they think that's funny," I sighed as we began our walk.

"Welcome to the world, Frey," Hart said.

The rain around us made pattering noises and began to douse us immediately. The sky was a dark charcoal gray. We quickened our pace as the rain seemed to fall harder around us.

"Do you think everyone who didn't make it to Tibby's made it back to the lodging house?" I practically shouted.

"I hope so," Hart called back.

Suddenly lightning streaked in the sky. Hart screamed and covered her ears as I laughed and stopped, ready for the loud thunder to come. The bolt had been huge.

It came, ripping and rumbling across the sky, seeming to shake the entire city, or at least my eardrums.

Hart grabbed my arm. "Frey, c'mon, I hate this! You're shivering so badly!"

I looked at myself as she pulled me along. I was shivering pretty hard. I never really feel it when I'm outside, whether it's snowing or raining or…hailing. Only when I get inside. I hate how cold I get. Bad memories and bad results.

I started not being able to think. There was only one thing in my head, and because of it, I almost prayed for darkness to completely overcome me.

In a few blocks we arrived at the lodging house. Hart tore up the steps with me and I heard her yell "Klopp!" before I was out.

**- . - . - . –**


	3. A Rush of Freedom

Hey

**Hey! Thanks to Rubicon Rose and chacotan!! You guys are great! Your reviews made me very happy. Rubicon Rose: I'm glad you found that funny…I tried to throw some humor in there not knowing if it was actually funny or not…Thanks!! chacotan: You're right, it is very encouraging to get reviews as a writer, so thanks very much!!**

**More reviews would be greatly appreciated!!**

**I don't own the newsies.**

**. - . - . - . - .**

**October 1890.**

**. - . - . - . - .**

They didn't come back, my parents. They weren't there when I woke up.

I pushed this horrible memory to the back of my head. I couldn't afford to wallow in self pity.

And plus—they hadn't left me with nothing. I had bread and cheese, clothes, a locket, a hair clip, and a knife. And that was all I needed, right? I guess what I needed was another person, a friend in place of a family, so I decided to find one. The ones in the building weren't spirited enough to do travel around with me, and besides, they had families here.

I stuffed my blanket into the sack along with everything else. Before I left the apartment, I pried up one of the floorboards and took out a pocket watch. I'd found it a year ago. And selfishly (or so I thought at the time) I'd wanted it for myself. It was so pretty, and I knew that if I showed it to my parents they'd take it and sell it. So I've kept it hidden and always been really excited about it. I would take it out late at night or early in the morning, so excited and nervous at the prospect of knowing something my parents didn't.

I put it in my coat pocket and left the apartment without a second glance and with a smile. My parents had just handed me the opportunity of a lifetime.

No more living and constantly worrying about not doing the right thing or disappointing them. It would be _me _and what _I _wanted from here on out.

I sauntered down the steps and out into the soon to wake city. I decided to run and run and not remember where I was going. Because I would never have to go back.

So I did so, laughing and tripping my way around random corners. I started to smell the faint scent of the sea, and I tried to follow it.

Eventually I actually came to the docks. I halted and looked out at the water.

I felt a rush of freedom at the sight of the calm water and the sky about to meet the sun. It was like me: I was the sky and the sun was going to come and light up my entire life. I was just waking up after all these years with my parents.

Suddenly my eye caught a figure on the end of one dock. It was a boy. I tilted my head and watched him. I could tell by the way that he was sitting that he was sad. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and his head was resting to the side. Every now and then he'd rock back and forth.

For some reason I was compelled to get a closer look. Maybe it was the rush of freedom and the fact that the boy was sitting so close to my vision of it.

I quietly approached. But I wouldn't be able to see his face without totally giving myself away.

So I decided to reveal my presence in another way.

"Hi," I said.

The boy gave a start and immediately leapt up. He was my height. His eyes narrowed at me. But I didn't notice. This was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. His eyes were mesmerizing. They were colored ice cold blue and yet full of life. I'd never seen anything like them before. Most people I'd known had dull eyes, full of giving up and boredom. This boy must be the companion I was destined to be with!

I smiled contentedly as I realized this and stopped thinking about his eyes. He looked a bit surprised at my smile.

"What do you want," he said, a voice that happened to match his eyes.

I shrugged. "I don't really know. I want to be free. And I am. How 'bout you?"

"I want you to go away," he said.

I frowned. "Why?"

"Cuz I's thinkin'."

"What about?"

"None a your business."

"Fine," I sighed. "How much longer will ya be thinkin'?"

"What kinda question is that?" He was getting exasperated.

"How much longer until you's leavin' the docks?"

"I dunno," he said. "Maybe I'll stay here forever."

I laughed. "What would you eat?"

"Fish."

"And eat them right out of the sea?"

"Fine, not forever," he huffed. "I'm leavin' now."

He turned and started down the dock. I hurried after him.

"Are you hungry? I have bread and cheese, if you want some," I offered.

"I'll get my own food," he said.

"Where?" I asked.

"The nuns give out food. I gotta get there before all the newsies."

"Why?"

"Cuz they'll take all the food, that's why," he said, keeping a step ahead of me.

"Do you have any friends?" I asked.

He scoffed. "A course. Hundreds. Some will be at the nuns already," he boasted. "I'm their leader."

"Oh?"

He nodded.

"What do you do?"

He faltered. "Not much. But I'm still the leader."

I nodded.

Suddenly he seemed to be right in pace with me. I couldn't tell if it was because I'd caught up or he'd slowed down.

"Hey," he said. "What ya got in that bag?"

I smiled. "It's my business."

He smiled back. I liked it when he smiled. His eyes were still intense, but a warm kind of intense. "Fine. You tell me what's in it and I'll tell ya what I was thinkin' about while we eat breakfast."

"Deal," I said, my smile growing. We were already becoming companions. We were eating breakfast together!

He touched my arm. "There's the nuns there. C'mon!"

We took off towards them, me not quite sure why we were running but the boy seeming to enjoy himself.

"Good morning, dear children," said one of the nuns as we approached.

"Good morning sister," the boy said, so I murmured the same.

The nun made the sign of the cross with her fingers and then the boy held out his hands, in which the nun placed a piece of bread. Then she smiled and gave him a small orange.

"You were smart to come early," she said.

The boy smiled back.

Then she turned to me expectantly.

"Oh, no thank you, uh…sister. I already have food," I could see the boy out of the corner of my eye trying to signal for me to take the food.

"Are you sure, child? You have an orange?"

"Nah, I have enough food." I said.

The nun smiled and nodded.

I turned back to the boy. He looked astonished.

"What kinda street rat are ya?" He asked as we began to walk away.

"I don't know."

"What's your name?"

I smiled. He was really intrigued now. "I'm –"

"Oi, Spot!"

I whirled around as the noise gave me quite the start. The boy groaned and slowly turned too.

A few boys were approaching us, grins on their faces.

I watched as Spot nodded at each them. "R.J. Dag. Match. Sting."

Spot spit in his hand. They all did the same. Then they all shook hands.

One, the tallest, nodded at me. "Who dis?"

The boy moved in front of me. "A girl."

They all laughed. But the boy'd been quite serious, and when I sidestepped around him I didn't see any trace of laughter on his face.

"I'm Freya," I said to the other boys.

They seemed surprised that I was actually talking to them. So there were a few moments of silence.

Finally a shorter one with sandy hair and freckles said, "I's R.J."

The tall one with tan skin and dark eyes said, "Dagger, or Dag."

A kid with long blonde hair which fell into his eyes nodded. "Sting."

And a kid with short hair and a quirky smile said, "Match."

I smiled at all of them.

Suddenly I felt the boy pull on my arm.

"I'll check in with ya later," he said to the others.

I waved at them and then allowed myself to be pulled away from them.

"So what's your name?" I asked the boy.

"Spot," he said.

"Why 'Spot'?"

"Ya know where ya saw me earlier?"

I nodded.

"That's my spot. The guys started callin' me that."

"Were those all 'the guys'?"

"Just some of 'em. Hey, don't go near them without me, alright?"

"Why not?"

"I dunno. Just don't."

"I'll go where I want when I want and see who I want," I said. "I'm free, remember?"

He sighed. "Then I'll just have ta stay with ya the whole time."

I smiled. "You're free too. You can do anything you want."

"So what's in the sack?"

**. - . - .**

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	4. He Came, Alright

Hey everyone

**Hey everyone!**

**CosmicOasis: **I'm glad you like how it flips back and forth between past and present; I was worried that people would find it confusing. Thanks!!

**ilovenewsies: **Thanks so much for your two reviews!! They were so encouraging and nice!! And don't worry, the rain and sick mysteries will play out, I think…

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**Thanks to you three and everyone else who read! Reviews for this chapter would be great!! Enjoy!**

**I don't own anything or anyone you recognize from **_**Newsies**_**.**

**. - . - . - .**

**March, 1900.**

**. - . - . - .**

I slowly awoke, full of warmth and drowsiness. I blinked a few times. Hart smiled down at me, her face upside down.

"There you are," she said happily.

She was brushing my hair. I was lying on the hearth of the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. I was dry and in a new shirt and skirt. Hart's, of course. This happened often and I knew the drill.

I looked up at Hart. She smiled. "He came, alright," she said, answering my unvoiced question.

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't even try that," she scolded. "I know you were wondering. Itey's here – and he played lookout. As soon as he saw him, we ran upstairs and waited for him to come in. He came in and then I crept down the stairs, quiet as possible. He was standing right here -" she stood and placed her feet right next to me, "and just looking at you. I couldn't see his face, but I could see yours. He just couldn't resist…" She sighed and sat back down. "Then I crept back up the stairs, even though I wanted to see what he'd do, and then loudly came back down them. He was standing by the door when I came back down, being all sly. He nodded to me and asked where Jack was. And you know me, I get nervous around him. I told him Tibby's. Then he asked if you'd be alright, and I nodded. Then he was gone."

She started absently stroking my hair.

"It's so romantic, all of this, Frey," she said. "He is so good looking…"

"It's not romantic at _all_, Hart! It's not romance in the least bit. I don't know what it is, but it's not that," I said. "You know what happened."

"He seems to feel bad for it."

"He doesn't care enough to tell me in words. I don't think we've spoken more than one or two words since then," I sighed.

"Oh, Frey," Hart sighed, too.

"Hart, I don't care! What he did hurt me so badly! My parents did the exact thing."

There was a silence. Hart was still stroking my hair.

"You have the most beautiful hair," she said. "And, did you know," she said, her voice immediately returning to its normal perky tone. "Blink still hasn't officially asked me out?"

I laughed. I love how easily Hart can change the subject. I sometimes just want to say things but not talk about them. She knows stuff like that.

"And it's been how long…?"

"Thirty-three days," she said immediately, making me laugh harder.

"Keeping track?"

She blushed. "Yes."

"That's sweet, Hart. You two are great together. And you're _definitely _still a thing to everyone else, even if it hasn't been spoken. You two have made that clear."

She blushed even more. "And what about you! You and…"

"Ha_ha_," I cried triumphantly, sitting up. "You have no leverage against me!"

I swirled around so that I was facing her. Both of us had our knees up to our chests.

"Someday I will Frey, someday soon," she said.

"What makes you so sure?" I scoffed.

"I just know," she responded, her eyes twinkling. "And you know who you'd be perfect with…"

I groaned and prodded Hart's foot with mine. "_Hart_," I whined. "Please."

"Fine, fine," she said. "But really…what are you waiting for?"

"You mean who…" I muttered.

"No," she said. "I mean _what_. Are you waiting for someone to come to you? To fall into someone's arms? For fate to bring you to someone?"

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know. I mean, look at you and Blink. You just naturally came together."

"But this is _you_, not me."

"I know. I have no idea what I want, though. I haven't seen anything – or anyone, really – that I want to want."

"Frey, how can that be possible if you don't know what you want?"

I put my head in my hands. "I don't know," I said wearily. "I don't know, Hart."

Then I lifted my head and smiled at her.

"But I don't really care. Finding a guy isn't exactly on the top of my priority list."

She laughed. "We all know that." Suddenly her eyebrows raised and her mouth curved into a devious smile. "You know, Frey," she said slowly. "If it really doesn't matter that much, why don't you just say yes once and a while when a guy asks you to dance?"

I sighed. "I will. Sometime soon."

"Hah!" Hart jumped up and pointed a finger at me. "I knew it!"

I frowned at her. "Knew what?"

"That soon I'd have leverage against you!" She grinned.

I smiled. "It's not going to be like the leverage I have against you."

She rolled her eyes. "Can I do your hair? Please?"

"Sure," I said, and smiled as she bounded up the stairs.

In the new fallen silence, I could hear the rain again.

I thought about what we'd discussed. It was true. I don't know what, or who, I want. But I don't really think about it much, only when Hart pesters me about it. Mostly, with guys, I just love being their friends. I'll notice if they're good looking, or not, but I don't think about them as more than friends. Well, consciously. In my dreams sometimes things happen. Involving "romance". And sometimes, fleeting images cross my mind about what it would be like to be someone's girl, but I never spend hours thinking about it. Not anymore. I used to when I was a lot younger. About one boy in particular. Some of those thoughts remain and occasionally enter my head. I like to think that the only reasons I think about him are because I _used_ to think about him all the time, and one doesn't forget easily, and the fact that Hart always brings him up. I honestly don't know though. What I value most is spending time with people I can have fun with and trust, and that's what I do.

Hart came bounding back down the stairs, with ribbons and pins in her hands. She set them all down the hearth and picked up the brush that was already there.

"Now, what color is the skirt I gave you again? Navy. Okay…Let's see here…" she murmured as she settled behind me and began brushing my hair. "Navy…and your shirt's cream…alright, I'll use the gold ribbon."

She picked up some pins and began sticking them into my head. I don't have a sensitive head at all. I love it when she does my hair. It feels nice.

"You know," she said. "I've been thinking about something recently. The younger kids love you. Even all the kids who're Rucks' age. It's great and all, but why don't they love me?"

I laughed. "They love you. Sometimes you're just…preoccupied. I think that puts them in awe and they admire you from more of a distance than close up."

I could feel her smile. "You're probably right. Hopefully. But sometimes I wish the kids, especially the little ones, would run up to me the way they run up to you…little kids are adorable."

I smiled. "Well, Hart, stick with Blink, and soon enough –"

"_Freya!_" She gasped, halting in her work.

I laughed. I love astonishing her. "And soon enough the kids will get used to you being with him."

"Oh," she said in a small voice, continuing in her work, with a small embarrassed laugh.

We were silent for a few moments. I enjoyed the feeling of getting my hair done, the warmth of the fire surrounding me, and the sound of the rain outside.

"There," Hart said. She stood up and clapped her hands. "Oh, Frey. C'mon! Let's go look in the mirror! I worked hard on it," she said. She helped me slowly get up and waited as the blood rushed through my head. "Ready?"

I nodded. We made our way up the stairs and to the bathroom. I missed the warmth of the fire already, but kept going to the bathroom to make Hart happy.

"Look!" Hart said as we came into the bathroom.

I stood in front of the mirror and smiled. "It looks great, Hart."

She'd actually done a good job. She's good at this kind of thing. My brown hair was swept back by the ribbon, which was set farther back on my head, allowing some pieces to escape onto my forehead. I tilted my head so I could see what she'd done in the back. It was some kind of elaborate half bun. Half of my hair was twisted into it and the other half was out.

I shivered involuntarily.

Hart took my arm. "Let's go back down."

Just as we were settled at the hearth and the blankets were back around me, the door burst open. Loud noise immediately filled the room as everyone streamed in, dripping and shouting from the cold. The younger ones tore off their shoes and sprinted over to us. Hart immediately moved to make more space for them, but I motioned for her to stay. As I predicted, one of the little ones, Fists, immediately snuggled up to her. And even though he was soaking, Hart was all smiles.

Mush came over to me as Tweet and Whit competed for the most blanket space next to me. Mush handed me Five, the youngest newsie, four years old, named for his tendency when we originally found him at two years old to open up his hand and stretch all five fingers over and over again. He was quite small for his age, and was also quite attached to me.

"Thanks Mush," I said as he hung up his gloves above the fireplace. "Sure you're not cold?"

He smiled. "Just wet, not cold. Muscles, remember?" Then he frowned. "And you? My coat didn't do much, huh?"

"I'm fine. Without your coat I'd have been worse," I smiled at him.

He smiled. "Hey," he said. "Nice hair."

"Thanks Mush," Hart said for me, beaming.

"Looks good," Mush said. Then he tapped a finger on my nose and turned away.

"It's freezin' out dere, Freya," Five said, snuggling into me and closing his eyes. He pronounced his 'r's as 'w's.

"It is, huh?"

"Ya…"

"Well you're here by the fire now, and you'll be all cozy and warm real quick," I said, pushing his somewhat long hair out of his eyes.

"I told you." I looked up. Rucks was standing there with his arms folded. "I knew it wasn't a good idea for you to go. And," he added, lowering his voice. "I know you don't want me to say it, but I was right about another thing. We were dead. And we sure got it."

He jerked his back, and I looked over his shoulder to see none other than _him_. I focused right back on Rucks.

"You're all alive, as far as I can see."

"Ya, as far as you can see." He shivered a bit.

"Rucks, take off your coat and gloves. You'll freeze in all that wet stuff. Do you have extra clothes upstairs?"

"Yes, mother," he droned, and then moved to the side to hang up his gloves.

And then _he _was there. Right behind Rucks. He was taking off his gloves. The kids on the hearth all quieted as he hung them up.

I wasn't looking at him, but I saw him nod at me. "Frey," he said.

"Freya," I corrected in automatically, my eyes elsewhere.

"Sorry," he said. Then he turned away, and immediately the kids began talking again.

Rucks was back and grinning broadly at me. "I _love _it when that happens!" he whispered.

I rolled my eyes.

**. - . - . - .**


End file.
